


Don't Tell Me You're Sorry

by SadieYuki



Series: Sorry, Not Sorry (Maybe a Little) [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 5 Things, 5:1, Angst, Apologies, Five Times, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Character Death, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadieYuki/pseuds/SadieYuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes he meant it, sometimes he didn't, but she hoped beyond anything that he knew hers was genuine.</p><p>Or, five times Jim Kirk owed Nyota Uhura an apology, and one time she owed him one in return.</p><p>(Sequel to "All in Good Fun": Or, five times the crew played a prank on their captain, and one time it went too far.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Free Alcohol is Almost Not Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! As I've mentioned, I couldn't leave Uhura feeling all guilty and pathetic in the last chapter, but since her resolution really didn't fit in the previous story, I decided to include it in its own story. And another 5:1 was born!
> 
> Similar to the last fic, the first five chapters will be relatively short, but the last will be longer and more impacting. As you can probably guess, the last chapter will be Uhura's apology for the disastrous leather prank.
> 
> In the meantime, here's a list of things that Kirk needs to apologize for xD

Nyota had been having a perfectly fine Friday evening on the town, thank you very much. She was at one of the local bars that Academy cadets tended to frequent on weekends, especially after midterms and finals season ended. And considering she had decimated her Intro to Xenolinguistics final that afternoon (she was still fuming that the class hadn't offered the chance to test out of the class), she was due a moment to let loose.

And it had been going spectacularly.

Until the bane of her existence, as of four months ago, fell into her lap. Literally. Along with a beverage or three.

“Kirk!” she screeched, proceeding to shove him off her without preamble to assess the damage to her blouse. She sniffed it cautiously and frowned when she identified it as a Cardassian Sunrise. That would most certainly leave a stain.

“Sup, Uhura?” Kirk grinned toothily from his spot on the floor. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“You’re insufferable,” she growled, taking the napkins offered to her by her roommate, Gaila.

“Hey, Jim,” Gaila grinned, batting her lashes flirtatiously.

Kirk responded predictably, settling into a lounging position on the floor and returning her gaze with a cocky smirk. “Hellooo, Gaila.”

“Damn it, Jim, get off the damn floor,” a gruff voice said next to her. She looked up to see the older cadet who had been the only other plain-clothes recruit on the shuttle that day four months ago. While it was clear the pair had met on the shuttle, they had fast become inseparable and were constantly seen with each other on campus. McCoy, she remembered, was a medical track cadet, who already had his license and had been a practicing surgeon before joining Starfleet.

Kirk pouted, rolling his head backwards to look at McCoy. “But it’s comfy down here,” he whined, and Nyota rolled her eyes at the immaturity.

“Get up and apologize, you spilled the whole table’s drink load on the lady here,” McCoy growled, jerking his head in Nyota's direction. At least one of the pair had manners. Kinda.

Kirk had the sense to look chagrined as he hoisted himself up (with McCoy’s reluctant help) and glanced sheepishly in her direction. “Sorry, Uhura, the drinks were supposed to make it to the next table over,” he grinned. “Lemme buy you a drink to make up for it.”

“And have that dumped on my head too? No thanks,” Nyota glared, throwing the soiled napkins in his face.

Kirk fumbled with them comically, his blood-alcohol level clearly messing with his motor functions. “They didn't land on your head, they landed on your shirt,” he said before giving her a quick once over. “And might I point out that you most certainly would have success in a wet t-shirt contest—”

“Okay, we’re leaving,” McCoy said, bodily shoving Kirk away from the table, which was probably a good thing because Nyota was about ready to pounce and gouge his eyes out. “Sorry again, miss!” he called over his shoulder, and Nyota tried to ignore Kirk peeking out from under McCoy’s shoulder, aiming a Call me! in Gaila’s direction.

“He’s got a point,” Gaila said after a moment, grinning at Nyota.

Nyota rolled her eyes as Gaila giggled, but she gratefully accepted the shawl Gaila passed to her.

And as a new round of drinks magically appeared at their table, Nyota decided to ignore that they had probably come from a self-righteous asshole and enjoy the free alcohol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's chapter one, chapter two will be around probably tomorrow, maybe the day after.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	2. Language Barrier

All innuendo aside, Nyota had a talented tongue.

And a talented ear (technically two).

She knew she had a gift for languages when she picked up Standard almost as fast as she had her native language of Swahili. Thanks to her Uncle Raheem, she became fluent in no less than seven languages by her tenth birthday. Her linguistic knowledge increased exponentially as the years went on, and by the time she had entered the Academy, she was well versed—if not fluent—in every core language within the Federation, and some beyond.

So it was really no surprise that when she discovered the Xenolinguistics Club at the Academy, she joined it and was up for the presidency by the end of her first year.

While most cadets would prefer to engage in extracurriculars that had absolutely nothing to do with their chosen track, Nyota found a comfort in the subject. While her class work challenged her to explore the structure and intricacies of various languages, the Xenolinguistics Club allowed her to enjoy the languages and learn them on a casual level. While it was one thing to learn how to translate and speak in specific inflections, it was another to learn the colloquialisms of other cultures, and the club allowed her to do just that.

Almost as important to her as learning and exploring said languages, Nyota loved the opportunity to share her knowledge and teach others about the beauty of other languages besides Standard. And with other cadets in the club who shared her passion for learning about other cultures, she had found a perfect group of people to share such knowledge with.

All in all, it was her favorite part of the Academy.

Keyword: was.

Nyota wouldn't go so far as to say the experience was ruined, but when she walked into the club meeting the first week of second year and saw those infuriatingly blue eyes smirking back at her, she exercised a restraint she didn't know she had in order to keep herself from screaming in frustration.

“Uhura!” Kirk chimed as she walked in. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“Kirk, this is the Xenolinguistics Club, not the Let’s Primp Ourselves In Front of the Mirror Club,” she scowled.

“I know, but Mirror Club meets during my scheduled PT, so this was my second choice,” he replied brightly, his famous shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Second choice for what?” Nyota asked. “You’re not required to join a club, let alone this one.”

“I know,” Kirk said. “But I was pseudo-ordered by my advisor to pick up an extracurricular. He seems to think it’ll keep me out of trouble.”

 _Like that will work._ “And what made you choose Xenolinguistics? Do you even know any languages other than ‘sarcastic asshole?’”

 _“Skek wani du (Vulcan: ‘You wound me’),”_ Kirk said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart.

“Vulcan?” Nyota asked, surprised. _“Par kweesah essah (Denobulan: ‘I’m impressed’).”_

 _“Cham'bioque (Kobali: ‘Success’)!”_ Kirk grinned.

“Where’d you learn all those?” Nyota asked, reluctantly finding herself curious.

A shadow crossed over Kirk’s face for a moment, but it passed quickly enough for her to wonder if she had imagined it, and his face settled into a nostalgic smile. “A really good teacher,” he said, and Nyota realized that was probably all she would get from him.

“Fine,” Nyota said finally. “Well, it’s not like I can keep you from joining, but don’t ruin this for me,” she threatened.

“I won’t,” Kirk said, shit-eating grin back in place. “I don’t want to miss the chance to witness your talented tongue in action.”

Rolling her eyes, Nyota left him in his seat so she could start the meeting.

She did fairly well at ignoring Kirk’s presence at club meetings that year, but perhaps that’s what led him to run for club treasurer during the next election. Maybe someone up there hated her, because he won almost unanimously (three guesses who the ‘no’ vote came from).

And when he mouthed ‘Sorry’ at her when the results were read, smirk firmly in place, she decided yes, someone most definitely hated her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I probably won't explicitly mention it anywhere else in this fic series, the teacher Kirk mentioned was Hoshi Sato, whom he met during his time on Tarsus IV. But my fellow Tarsus IV angst lovers already knew that ;) 
> 
> Hopefully I got the syntax on the Vulcan part correct, the other two should be good because they're direct quotes from the franchise. Thanks to Memory Alpha for all those :)
> 
> Sorry for the slight delay on this chapter! The next one won't be as light-hearted as the last two, but there should be more light times before we hit the last chapter.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. When the Dust Settles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit heavier than the others, just a word of warning :)

It took a little over two weeks for the Enterprise to limp back to Earth. Running with damaged impulse engines and a severely cracked hull, it was a stressful time for the crew. With an already understaffed and inexperienced crew, they had lost another chunk of the crew when they were attacked upon arrival at Vulcan. The remaining crew members were left pulling double and triple shifts to keep the ship together until they could reach Starbase 1.

As such, Nyota was exhausted by the time the shuttles had landed on Earth, but she had little time to rest as their shuttle was immediately bombarded by the press corp and other unauthorized media members who had wormed their way into the crowd. The crew had been swept away from the vultures into a private area where family members had been permitted to wait for their loved ones.

Nyota barely had five minutes with her parents, brother, and sister before she was pulled away to the first of many debriefing sessions. Due to her field promotion to Communications Officer, she was required to sit in with other acting senior officers (most of which were cadets like herself) for most of the debriefings, though the first was an individual briefing with the entire Admiral Council. _That_ had been terrifying, but thankfully short.

After far too many debriefings, she finally made her way back to her dorm room. She considered going to Spock’s, but she knew he would have many more meetings of his own to attend to, and at this point she just wanted to collapse in her bed and sleep for a week.

Unlocking her door, she crept inside the room, staying silent in case Gaila was asleep—

Nyota felt the breath leave her lungs, and she made her way to her bed before sitting down heavily. She had read the casualty list already, and she knew Gaila had been stationed on the Farragut, but with the hustle and activity of the past several days, she hadn't really had the chance to accept the knowledge that Gaila was gone.

She glanced over at the other side of her room, and was surprised to find it cleared out except for a piece of paper on a bare mattress. Forcing herself to her feet, Nyota made her way to Gaila’s bed. She found a brief message from Gaila’s brother, Kai, that read:

_Nyota,_  
_I thought it might be easier to take care of this before you returned. I’ll probably be gone by the time your ship returns, I don’t think I can stand to stay here for too long. Thank you for being such a good friend to Gaila, she spoke very highly of you. I’m sorry I did not have the chance to meet you._  
_-Kai_

She really didn't have the energy to full on sob, but Nyota allowed herself to cry, to finally take the time to mourn the loss of her roommate, the majority of her graduating class, Vulcan, and too many others. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she raised a hand to her mouth, the other hugging her waist tightly.

A soft knock at the door caught her attention.

Nyota hastily wiped her face and took a moment to compose herself. Satisfied, she opened the door and was surprised to find Kirk standing in the hallway.

As exhausted as she was, Kirk certainly looked worse. The last couple weeks had really taken its toll, and it showed. While he had finally had a chance to tend to his injuries (and there had been a lot), he looked like he hadn't slept in ages. His eyes were bloodshot and sunken, framed with dark circles and distinct bags under them. His face was pale and gaunt, and there was a substantial five o’clock shadow along his jaw. His lips were pulled tight in a hard grimace, which made Nyota wonder if all of his injuries _had_ been treated.

“Look, I really don’t think I can handle you right now,” Nyota said tiredly.

Kirk nodded shortly, and his face was void of its usual humor and mischief that was standard for their interactions. “I know, and I don’t have much time as it is,” he said. That was probably true, because while she had gone to more debriefings than she would have liked, Kirk had been the Acting Captain, previously a _stowaway_. He probably had many more meetings waiting for him. “I just—” he cut himself off, looking unsure of what he wanted to say. He took another few moments to struggle before sighing and saying, “I’m sorry.”

Nyota raised an eyebrow. “For what?” she asked, not unkindly.

“For Gaila,” he said softly, jerking his head towards her room.

A lump formed in her throat, and Nyota forced herself to swallow painfully before nodding at him in acknowledgement. She never really knew the extent of Gaila’s relationship with Kirk. Nyota and Gaila had met each other their freshman year at the Academy, and they decided to room with each other the following three years. Gaila had met Kirk sophomore year (Kirk’s first year), and if Nyota had to label it, they had shared a very casual friends with benefits relationship since then. But looking at Kirk now, who looked just as broken as she felt about Gaila’s death, she wondered if they hadn't shared something deeper than a casual lay.

“She was on the Farragut,” Nyota found herself saying, even though Kirk probably knew that already. Rather than say as much, he just nodded solemnly. “She was so excited, you know? When we both got assigned to the same ship, she just turned to me and gave me the biggest grin before running off to her station. And me? I stormed off to complain to Spock about not being on the flagship and demanded he transfer me.”

That was an extra sting. She would have died along with Gaila on the Farragut, but because she felt entitled to the Enterprise, she was spared. Her selfishness saved her while Gaila was the one dead.

“No one knew what we were jumping in to, you can’t blame yourself for that,” Kirk said suddenly, seemingly picking up on her self-deprecating thoughts. “Your insistence is why you’re alive today. Gaila would never blame you, she’d be happy you lived.” A dark look crossed over his face as he continued, “If I had figured out about the lightning storm faster, maybe we could've gotten word to the other ships before they got to Vulcan.”

“If I can’t blame myself, then _you_ can’t blame _your_ self,” Nyota said vehemently, not about to let Kirk try and take on that guilt.

Kirk released a long sigh before saying, “I need to go to another meeting with the brass, but I just—I just wanted to check in with you.” Avoidance if she’d ever heard it, but Nyota decided not to press the issue. It wouldn't do either of them any good.

“Thank you,” Nyota replied softly, and she found herself really meaning it.

It must have come across well enough, because Kirk sent her a half smile before nodding and leaving down the hallway.

Nyota retreated back into her room and sat on her bed again. She knew it would take time to heal from Gaila’s death, but her brief conversation with Kirk had her feeling a bit lighter. Without bothering to change her clothes, she fell back onto the bed and settled in for a long overdue nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit longer than I was planning, but it was necessary I think. I normally like to keep the first five chapters shorter than the payoff chapter, but again, this one deserved a little more. I probably could have made it longer, but I didn't think Kirk and Uhura were ready for a long, heartfelt conversation yet. At this point in their relationship, a short and to the point but meaningful conversation seemed to fit.
> 
> The next chapter I haven't fully settled on yet. I think it'll be another serious chapter, but I'm not sure. It'll probably be out by the end of the weekend because I'll be out of town the next two days.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Misunderstandings

“Lieutenant Uhura, a word?”

Nyota fought to keep the grimace off her face as she looked up at Kirk’s call. While not fully facing her, his face was grimly set in her direction.

She nodded and walked to his chair, where he motioned for her to follow him. “Mr. Spock, you have the conn.”

Nyota followed Kirk into his ready room, glancing behind herself to look at Spock, but he wasn't paying attention to them, merely reading reports on his PADD. Her anxiety spiked a bit as the door closed behind them.

She had a pretty good feeling about what this meeting was about. A couple hours ago, an away team was dispatched to a Federation planet on the verge of civil war, and the Enterprise had been tasked with helping negotiations. She had beamed down along with Kirk, Spock, and two security details for the proceedings. While Spock and Kirk had basic knowledge of the language, she was much more proficient at it, so she would be translating for the negotiation meetings.

Unfortunately, there had been confusion as to who was leading the mediation. Since she was doing most of the talking, albeit conveying the words of her Captain, the locals had assumed Kirk to be her advisor, and she the Captain and lead mediator.

So when Kirk (who actually had a much better grasp of the language than she thought) interrupted the warring leaders, two of which had begun arguing, the locals saw it as a sign of disrespect. But the V’rontans were people who prided themselves on leadership and control, so while Kirk, her supposed subordinate, had been the source of disruption and disobedience, the locals turned their ire on her.

The misunderstanding had almost collapsed the peace talks, and it was Kirk’s quick thinking that kept things from spiraling out of control. Ultimately, civil war was avoided (until the next time the Federation would need to step in).

As for right now, Nyota figured she was about to get a reprimand for her part in what happened. If only she had made it explicitly clear at the beginning of the negotiations that she was merely translating for her Captain, there never would have been an issue in the first place.

“About what happened on V’ronta—” _Here it comes..._ “I owe you an apology.”

_What?_

“I never should have put you in that position,” Kirk continued, oblivious to her confusion. “I should have made it clear at the beginning of the talks that you were my translator. You never should have been subjected to their temper, that was careless of me.”

“All due respect, sir, I’m the one who should be—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Kirk interrupted kindly. “The V’rontans were right, I’m responsible for my crew, and you never should have been put in that situation. It’s my job to express our roles to the V’rontan leaders, and I failed. I also should have held my tongue, interrupting them was careless of me, I should have known how they would react to such an outburst.”

Nyota frowned. Yet again, there was Kirk taking blame for situations outside of his control. “As I was the one communicating with them, it was my responsibility to inform them of our roles,” Nyota tried again.

“But you were translating, and I should have passed along the information.”

Nyota quickly saw the conversation going in circles. She raised a hand to stop him when he opened his mouth again. “If I accept your apology, will you stop blaming yourself?”

Kirk quirked his lips. “Maybe. Will you?”

“Maybe,” she smirked back. “Apology accepted. Am I dismissed?”

“Yes, thank you, Lieutenant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opposite of the last one, this ended up being really short. But it couldn't be helped.
> 
> So I lied, this obviously came out before the end of the weekend, oops. But definitely don't expect the next chapter until Sunday night.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Find Out What it Means to Me

“Uhura! Uhura, _wait_!”

Nyota didn't care if this counted as insubordination, but she was not in the mood to deal with her captain right now. The moment Alpha shift ended, she stalked off the bridge, Kirk immediately at her heels.

It was bad enough that it had been in front of the entire bridge crew, but as the only female member of senior staff, she felt humiliated. She had to work extra hard to feel at par with her peers, and that prank made her feel so degraded.

She made it to the turbolift and quickly requested Deck 4 to return to her quarters, but Kirk slipped into the lift just as the doors closed.

“Get out.”

“C'mon, Uhura, it was a prank!” Kirk groaned. “It was _funny_.”

“It was humiliating,” she seethed, rounding on him. “Do you have any idea how much work I have to put in to be treated as an equal member of senior staff? Not just as a woman, but as a fresh-pressed cadet? And now I’m reduced to the butt of a _blowjob joke_?”

“Of course I do!” Kirk said incredulously. “You’re not the only greenie on board here—”

“And you know what it feels like to be a woman in charge, do you, Kirk?” Nyota snapped.

“My mother’s the one who told me about the MPA prank in the first place!” Kirk replied.

“So?”

“ _So_ , she’s Chief Engineering Officer on the _Lexington,”_ Kirk said. Huh, she didn't know that. “She knows a thing or two about being a woman in charge and having to deal with sexist officers. Look, Uhura,” Kirk sighed in frustration, “you _know_ that’s not what I was trying to accomplish, you know I respect the hell out of you. But it was a _prank_ , it’s supposed to be funny and embarrassing, that’s the _point_. But I’m sorry if you felt victimized or disrespected, I really am.”

Nyota huffed, turning away from Kirk. She knew Kirk wasn't the asshole he had presented himself as back in the Academy, and she had surprised herself when she grew to respect Kirk as a leader and as a person. But this stung, even if it was supposed to be in jest.

The turbolift had already arrived at the deck (it was a short trip after all), and an annoying beeping sound alerted them that the doors were getting impatient. Nyota stepped out of the lift and was grateful when Kirk stayed behind. He had an exasperated look on his face as she glared at him.

Unable to leave him looking like a kicked puppy (as she would have gladly done months ago), she sent him a heated smirk. “Watch your back this week,” she said, and ignoring the playful grin that sprung up on Kirk’s face, she turned on her heel and walked towards her quarters.

She had some planning to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this warring thought in my head over whether I prefer for Jim to have the wholly shitty childhood by having a crap relationship with his mom or if I prefer for Winona to be as badass as her son. I'm a OUaT fan, so Emma Swan has infected my thoughts of Winona, so I've decided that in my fics, Jim and Winona have a good relationship. I have a fic in the works that explains more about their background, but in the context of this story, you just need to know Jim and Winona are on good terms.
> 
> As for why she's Chief Engineering Officer, I'm a lady engineer myself, and I'm all for more female representation in that field. Plus, it's never been stated what field she is other than that she's a Starfleet officer, so I took my liberties.
> 
> Sorry this took so long, I know this is a short chapter, but the weekend ended up longer than I was planning xD The last chapter is in the works right now, so that should be out in a couple days.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Revenge Never Tasted So Awful

Lunch ended in a somber mood. Neither Scotty, Sulu, nor Nyota spoke after McCoy departed their table, and the guilty feeling in her stomach left Nyota barely picking at her tray.

When their lunch period ended, Scotty left them to head back towards Engineering while Nyota followed Sulu to the turbolift to bring them back to the bridge. Stepping out of the lift, Sulu went right towards his station where Chekov immediately engaged him in conversation. Nyota hovered in the lift for a moment before heading towards her own station.

Almost at her station, she noticed that Spock was sitting in the captain’s chair. Her unease grew; Kirk should have been back on the bridge by now.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Nyota made her way over to Spock.

“Where’s the Captain?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Spock raised an eyebrow at her. “The Captain is off duty for the rest of shift.”

Nyota's face fell. “Did he say why?”

“Negative,” Spock replied evenly. “Doctor McCoy notified the bridge of the change earlier in the Captain’s scheduled lunch period.” Nyota chewed her lip at the information, and Spock quickly noticed her demeanor. “Something is troubling you.” Not a question.

“I messed up, Spock,” Nyota muttered. “That prank you helped me set up, it didn’t go as I hoped it would.”

Spock’s face settled into the Vulcan equivalent of a frown. “The programming did not work?”

Nyota shook her head. “No, it worked fine,” she said. “But he didn’t react like I thought he would.” Nyota sighed. “Maybe we should've just made it spicier.”

“You deduced that an increase in flavor intensity would not affect the Captain,” Spock said. “Thus doing so would not have had the effect you desired.”

“This isn’t the effect I wanted either, Spock,” Nyota said, wrapping her arms around her waist anxiously. “You didn’t see him, he—he looked _awful_ , like someone had poisoned him or something. When he realized I’d done it, he just looked so _betrayed_. And McCoy, once he found out what I did, he was furious, but mostly he was concerned about Kirk. He stormed off to follow him right after. I—I really messed up.”

“I do not understand.”

“I think,” Nyota paused, chewing her lip again, “I think it was the leather taste that was the problem. I could've chosen _anything_ else and it probably would've been fine.”

Spock’s brows furrowed slightly. “Why would the Captain have such an adverse reaction to the taste of leather?”

“I don’t know,” Nyota muttered.

* * *

Following McCoy’s orders, Kirk didn’t report to the bridge for the rest of Alpha shift, so Nyota wasn’t surprised by his absence. But that didn’t help her anxiety at all.

Guilt had been eating at her all shift—perhaps a poor choice of words on her part, but nonetheless accurate.

She needed to apologize, she decided. At the very least, she owed Kirk that much. She had to let him know she wasn’t trying to be malicious in her prank.

Nyota took the turbolift to Deck 4, but rather than head towards her own quarters, she started in the direction of the captain’s quarters. As she approached, she heard the doors to his cabin slide open, immediately followed by voices.

“They wouldn’t have asked for you if they didn’t need you,” she heard Kirk saying. She took note of how gravelly his voice sounded and she winced. “Go, I’m fine,” he insisted.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” McCoy assured. Nyota felt a growing sense of dread. How bad was Kirk that McCoy was this reluctant to leave him alone? What had she done to him?

“Go,” Kirk said again, a faint tone of fondness in his voice.

McCoy huffed before stepping out of the doorway. As it closed, he turned and started to stalk down the hallway, but he stopped when he noticed Nyota. His gaze turned steely and she had to keep herself from gulping.

“Are you here to apologize?” he asked shortly, fixing her with a glare.

“Yes,” she replied in a steady voice. “I really don’t know what I did to cause that reaction, but I’m sorry it did. That was never my intention.”

McCoy slumped a bit, his face taking on a tired look. “I know,” he sighed. “Jim knows that too.”

A bit of relief filled her at his words. “Can I see him?”

McCoy grimaced, looking at Kirk’s door. “I don’t think that’s a good idea—”

“I need to apologize to him,” she said determinedly, cutting off his words.

McCoy looked down the hallway, and she realized she was keeping him from whatever had pulled him from Kirk’s room in the first place. “Just...be careful, okay? He’s not in the best state of mind right now, so try not to bring up the prank.”

“How am I supposed to apologize if I can’t bring it up?”

“I just mean don’t mention the leather,” McCoy clarified. _So it_ was _specifically the leather that was the problem._ “Don’t go into his reaction, just keep it simple.”

“Okay,” Nyota nodded. “I can do that.”

“If he—” McCoy cut himself off with a grimace. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said instead. With a nod, he rushed down the hall, presumably on his way to the Sickbay.

Nyota took a deep breath before walking up to Kirk’s door. She pressed the comm button, and she was surprised when the door opened for her right away.

“I’m serious, Bones, go take care of—oh,” Kirk appeared in the doorway, voice falling when he registered it was Nyota and not McCoy in front of him. Kirk averted his eyes, suddenly becoming very interested in his hand, which gripped the door frame with white knuckles.

The uncomfortable silence stretched on until Nyota grimaced and jerked her head towards his room. “Can I come in?”

Kirk nodded stiffly, moving aside to let her in while still avoiding eye contact. Nyota stepped inside the quarters briskly in case he decided to change his mind.

She stood rigidly in the room, unsure about how to start, and instead her gaze followed Kirk as he moved to the bedroom side of his quarters. He sunk onto the bed, sitting crosslegged with his back to the headboard, and reached out to grab a glass on the side table. Finally, he lifted his eyes to match her gaze, and he nodded towards the bed as he took a sip from his drink.

Nyota pursed her lips slightly before following his direction and sitting next to him, barely on the edge of the bed.

She dropped her gaze to her lap, wringing her hands nervously when she finally tried to speak. “Look, I’m—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Kirk interrupted tiredly, letting his head fall back gently.

“Well I’m going to anyway,” Nyota snapped.

With his head still tilted back, Kirk gazed at her with a small quirk of his lips. “Good, I was starting to think I broke you.”

Nyota started, eyebrows shooting up. “You broke _me_?” she said incredulously.

“Yeah, you’re all subdued and cautious,” Kirk explained. “It’s weird.”

Classic Kirk defense mechanism, she decided. He was trying to avoid the issue by adding humor to the situation. But Nyota wasn’t fooled, and his act only made her feel worse.

“Jim, please,” she said softly, invoking a rare use of his first name.

Kirk frowned, head dipping forward again as he took another sip from his drink. In the silence, she heard a faint bubbling and popping sound from the beverage and deduced it was carbonated, probably soda.

Her gaze must have been locked on the drink, because Kirk raised the glass a bit towards her in acknowledgement. “It’s just Coke,” he said mildly. “Bones wouldn’t let me have alcohol and I needed something to burn my tongue. If you hold a sip of pop on your tongue long enough before swallowing, it does the trick.”

Nyota winced at the insinuation. He felt the need to cleanse himself of the taste of leather so much that he was trying to replace it with an almost painful sensation.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, making eye contact with Kirk again, but he quickly dropped his gaze again, looking steadfastly at the floor. She tried to continue on, “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not!”

Kirk’s startled face snapped up to meet hers, and this time Nyota was the one averting her eyes.

Nyota wrung her hands again, her gaze focused on her lap. “I need you to know I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” she muttered. “I never wanted it to be this bad, I just wanted to startle you, that’s all.”

“Did you intend for me to react as I did?”

Nyota looked to him, panicked. “Of course I didn’t! I—!”

“Then _stop_ ,” Kirk said vehemently, and Nyota's mouth snapped closed with a click. He leaned forward and placed a hand on Nyota's shoulder, keeping his gaze steady. “Any other flavor of the week and I would have found it hilarious. You chose leather without knowing it had a negative significance to me, and that’s not your fault. It was just bad luck, okay?”

Nyota nodded, relief blooming within her. While McCoy had said it, she felt much better hearing it straight from Kirk that he didn’t blame her for what happened. While she still didn’t know about the significance of the leather, she decided it wasn’t important. At the very least, she hadn’t yet earned the right to that story.

Before she could say anything else, the door to Kirk’s quarters slid open and an irritated McCoy stepped inside.

“This no-knocking thing better not become a habit, Bones,” Kirk smirked, and McCoy quickly scowled in his direction.

“False alarm in the Sickbay,” McCoy grumbled, pointedly ignoring Kirk’s comment. He kicked his boots off and settled next to Kirk on the other side of the bed, matching his posture.

Deciding that Kirk needed McCoy far more than he needed her at the moment, she stood up and made her way towards the door. “I guess I’ll be going then, but again, I’m—”

“I swear, if you say ‘sorry’ one more time, I’m sticking you on Gamma shift with Sulu,” Kirk said, a grin on his lips but a warm understanding in his eyes. “But thank you,” he added, nodding at her.

Returning the nod with a small smile, she left his quarters, her guilt finally melting away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept going back and forth about it, but finally I decided that Tarsus was not going to make its way into that conversation. I toyed with writing a snippet about Kirk and McCoy right after Uhura leaves, but I decided against it. Basically, Kirk decided that Uhura was upset enough as it was, and he didn't want to bring up Tarsus even though he knew that would explain his reaction. He figured she felt guilty enough without having the knowledge that she brought up memories of such a terrible experience.
> 
> Kirk does eventually tell Uhura about Tarsus, and that will probably be its own little ficlet (so subscribe to this series if you're interested in that conversation). Basically, it will be more of an understanding over the leather reaction, as well as bringing up Hoshi. But it didn't fit here without forcing it, so again, that's a conversation for another fic.  
> (EDIT, 5-April-2016: This fic is now definitely happening! Keep an eye out for _Sorry, I Hardly Know You_ by subscribing to this series!)
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this fic! I've got a couple other 5:1 fics in the works (both based around Tarsus IV, is that even a surprise?) as well as a fic where Jim gets a look at the original timeline. But those won't be for a little while, I've got other commitments to get to first. But stay tuned! :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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